


Clues Smudged in Ink

by Duncecapdummy



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-22
Updated: 2015-01-22
Packaged: 2018-03-08 14:01:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3211784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Duncecapdummy/pseuds/Duncecapdummy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve swiped his ID into the scanner at the north computer lab for the fifth time, refusing to accept defeat.  This is what he got for waiting until the last minute to print his photo project.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Clues Smudged in Ink

Steve swiped his ID into the scanner at the north computer lab for the fifth time, refusing to accept defeat. This is what he got for waiting until the last minute to print his photo project. He had a huge essay due two days ago, and it wasn’t until last night that he realized his photography deadline was tomorrow. After running around all day to get the photos, he had holed himself in the Media Lab on the west side of campus to edit the pictures. It was going great until the photo printer decided to run out of ink. So here he was, panting from his run across the school, furiously swiping his card to get into the lab with the only other photo printer on campus. 

Steve swiped one last time, hoping beyond hope the scanner would blink green and magically let him in. When it didn’t, he gave up and resorted to rapping loudly on the glass with his knuckles. “Come on…” he muttered, waiting for a miracle. He peered into the entryway through the glass doors. There was no one in the entryway, but Steve continued to knock. His head fell forward, and the steam from his slowing breaths clouded the glass in front of him.

He lost track of how long he was knocking, but it felt like eternity out in the cold. Winter wasn’t usually so bad here, but somehow it had gotten down to the twenties while he was in the media lab. His toes burned with the chill inside his shoes, and his nose and fingers were raw and dry. Soon he started tapping his feet, rocking side to side, anything to keep the heat moving in his body.

Movement caught his eye and Steve lifted his head to see a flustered girl step around the corner across from the lab. He let his hand drop, fingers tingling from the constant knocking and smiled at her through the glass. She only responded with an irritated look, and swung the door open for him. He mumbled his thanks and shot her another small smile as he stepped into the building, rushing past her and into the lab.

Steve frantically tapped the space bar of the first computer he could reach, almost missing the chair in his rush to sit down. It took a few tries for his frozen fingers to type his log in. Once on, Steve scrambled to plug in his flash drive and pull up the project files. He knew that rushing this fast would cause errors and just make everything go slower, but he was getting too anxious to slow down. It was already 2:00am, these prints were due in seven hours and he still had to go back to his apartment and sleep. No amount of rationalization was going to make his fingers slow on the keyboard, or make his foot stop tapping on the floor.

Once all the photos were lined up on the screen, he hit the print button for each and stood out of his chair. He spun quickly to face the printer across the lab, but as he rounded the center table of computers, he froze.

The front of the printer was open, and all Steve could really see was a pair of old blue jeans that looked like they’d seen better days and a set of converse that probably weren’t sold in that used-to-be-black mud color. There was a handprint on the front of the opened printer, the dark ink in sharp contrast to the white of the plastic door, and there was a small pool of black growing from under the machine.

He couldn’t believe this was happening. A school this big and there were only two photo printers, and the one he needed was currently being gutted by some guy at 2:00am. What were the odds? 

Steve cleared his throat. The guy inside the printer didn’t answer. Steve tried two more times and finally gave up and tapped the printer door with the toe of his shoe. A surprised little yelp sounded and something clattered to the floor. Steve cocked an eyebrow as he waited for the shuffling to stop so he could actually see this guy’s face. He was about halfway through preparing his “I need this printer what the hell are you doing” speech when the man looked up. 

Big, sharp eyes met Steve’s as the guy pulled himself up onto his knees, and Steve was a bit taken aback by how bright they were. The guy smiled and it was a little crooked, playing perfectly with the beard that Steve thought would looks stupid on anyone else. What was more was just how intense his attention was, those eyes relentlessly skimming over Steve’s face, then chest, darting further down for a split second then meeting his eyes again. The lopsided grin grew bigger.

Steve lost the speech he’d half prepared. He was too taken by the man’s strange appearance. The guy was covered in ink. It was on his clothes, smudged up his arm, smeared across his cheek. Even his hair was caked with ink where he had run his fingers through it while working. Normally people looked like they were dying on the inside at two o’clock in the fucking morning. This guy looked… Alive. It was as if energy was rolling off of him, ready for whatever the night threw at him.

After another moment of assessing each other, the man cocked his eyebrow. “You gonna stare at me all day or do you just like interrupting people?” Steve frowned and squared his shoulders, remembering his mission. 

“I need the printer,” he said stupidly.

“No-can-do, twinkle toes. The toner valve is broken. Clogged.” The guy just kept on smiling and sat back on his heels, looking back at the innards of the printer. “I’ve been at this for about twenty minutes and nothing short of a yellow-pages plumber is gonna get this flowing anytime soon.” He gestured at the mess of ink and machinery and let his hand slap down onto his thigh, causing another smear of ink to stain the denim. “There’s another printer in the art building, though.”

Steve frowned and crossed his arms, looking down between the guy and the open printer. “I know. I just came from there,” It came out harsher than he wanted. Steve tried to blow it off as the result of being exhausted and stressed but he couldn’t shake the little bit of guilt he felt. This guy was just fixing the printer, it’s not like he was the one to break it. “Sorry…” he murmured, voice small.

The guy laughed. It was more like just a puff of air, coupled with a short, one-armed shrug. “S’fine. I get it. Big project, late night, too much coffee. Then you come here to find your only hope dashed by some handsome guy covered in toner. No biggie.” He sat back on his heels and beamed up at Steve. It threw Steve off guard. The man’s smile was like sunshine. It lit up his whole face, and somehow Steve thought if he were in a slightly better mood he would have no choice but to smile back.

In an attempt to stop looking at the man in front of him, Steve huffed a sigh and scratched his forehead. Damn… he was going to be late with this stupid project. “It’s just… is there any way you can fix it in the next, like… thirty minutes?” He was getting a bit irritated. His luck was shit this week… First his computer crashes, then his phone wont connect to the service, and now this. 

The guy just smirks. “Well… I have been known to work miracles.” He tilted his head to the side and looked up at Steve. “What’s the rush? You look about ready to drop can’t you just come back tomorrow?” That was probably true. Steve hadn’t showered that day because he had to get out and get the photos done. What’s more is he hadn’t gotten much sleep. He probably looked like death.

“I could, but then I will miss my deadline.” Steve lets his arm settle to cross over his chest again. “I kinda need it now. It’s… fine. I’ll figure something out…” He looked back at his bag sitting at the computer across the room. He started mentally preparing a schedule for the morning. He could get up early, go to a print shop in town. He’d still be late but at least it would be done.

The guy pursed his lips and looked back into the bowels of the printer. “You know, if you find me a paperclip, I can probably get this thing working in just a few minutes…” His head fell back on his shoulder as he looked up to Steve, who was having a hard time imagining why a paper clip was going to fix the printer. 

But hey, if it got the job done. He looked around and didn’t see anything other than a roll of tape. “Oh…kay?” He turned on his heel and started searching around the computer tables. As he looked around, he could hear the other man going back to his tinkering in the printer. There were scraping and tapping noises echoing all around the lab as Steve searched behind every computer monitor. Eventually he had come full circle, and held out his hand to the guy over the printer door.

“Here. I didn’t find a paper clip but there was a tack on the board. Will that work for… whatever you need it for?” 

The guy sat back up. Somehow there was even more ink in his hair now. He smiled that same bright smile up at Steve and grabbed the thumb-tack. “Perfect.” He bent double and reached into the machine again, going back to work. Steve stepped round the guy’s back to get a better look at what he was doing. From what he could see, the guy was attempting to un-clog a tube using the tack. Hopefully it would be long enough.

Just as Steve was about to go look for something longer, the guy cheered. “Look at that!” he said, wiping black off the wires and tubes of the machine. He started shutting hatches and putting the toner cartridge back into the printer. “Good as new.”

“That’s really all you needed to fix it?” Steve asked, honestly a bit bewildered.

“Well I was here a while before you came in,” the guy said as he continued to close up the machine. “First there was a paper jam, then ink started spraying everywhere on the paper when it came out. I decided to look inside and promptly got spit-on by an angry toner cartridge.” He shut the main door and turned to present his front to Steve, gesturing to the large black stain that ran down his shirt. “Not really how I wanted to lose one of my favorite shirts but, hey.” He shrugged and wiped his hands on the thighs of his jeans again. Steve saw that this wasn’t the first project they’d been used as a towel for. There were dozens of other stains littering the faded blue fabric. Some looked like paint, others looked like the same ink stains just older. He looked back up to the guys face and saw that he was smiling again.

“So…” Steve glanced at the printer, then back at the man. “It’s fixed?” 

“Should be.” Steve watched him turn and walk to one of the many computers. He tapped the keyboard and it lit up onto a document page. “Let’s see…” He hit a few keys and a moment later the printer hummed to life beside Steve. He waited as a piece of paper came out slowly, bearing the image that looked a bit like the guy covered in ink. When it was done printing, the guy sauntered over and snatched it up, smiling. “There! See? Fixed.” He turned the photo so Steve could see and it was just a really bad selfie of the printer guy. Steve raised an eyebrow and looked from the picture to the man, who was again smiling. 

Steve shook his head and gave a small smile of his own. “Thanks,” was all he said as he walked back to his own computer to start the prints he needed. He heard something that sounded like a “no problem” but when he looked over, the guy was just typing at the computer screen quickly. Steve queued the rest of his photos to print and went to stand beside the printer. 

The guy slung his bag over his shoulder and walked around Steve to check the printer’s status, then smiled to himself. “Alright. If you have any more trouble, call someone else. I’m going to sleep. You should too, before you fall over.”

Steve smiled a bit and looked over to him. “Yeah, I will. Thanks for the help.”

The guy gave one last, big smile and started walking for the door. As he passed behind Steve, he said, “no problem, twinkle toes,” and slapped Steve on the ass. Steve jumped, but before he could say anything, the guy was yelling “good night!” over his shoulder and letting the door to the lab close behind him. Steve stared for a little while before turning back to the printer, cheeks burning slightly. 

It took him a little longer to get all his prints done, but by 2:40 he was finished and heading back to his dorm. He snuck in quietly, making sure not to wake his roommate with their squeaking door, and grabbed his shower things.

It wasn’t until after his shower that Steve saw the big black hand print on the back of his pants.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! Thanks for reading! I hope to continue writing short drabbles like this one to continue building my universe. If you liked it and want to see the headcanons connected to this story and the rest of my college au, please visit me here: wintrsmolder.tumblr.com and message me or look at my headcanon page!


End file.
